“You’re so.
Fucking.
Wet.”
“Because of you.”
I tug on his hips, and he pushes deep. “You feel so good. You’re so thick.”
He makes a smug
Mmmmm
noise and starts to move. He locks an arm behind one of my knees and spreads me wide, hammering hard so his balls slap me with each thrust. The arm of the couch is awkward under my back, but I don’t care. All that matters is Noah’s hips pumping, Noah’s cock surging, Noah’s moan mounting as he gets closer and closer.
“God, Noah. Keep going. Give it to me.”
“I’m
gonna
come in you. Fuck, Abby, I’m
gonna
come.”
“I need it, Noah. I need your cum. Give it all to me.”
“Yeah.
Yeah…” He fucks so hard I can feel the couch moving across the wood, so hard he knocks a puff of my breath out with each impact.
“Oh yeah.
Here it comes, Abby. Here it comes.” Noah falls apart, rams
himself
deep
deep
deep
, and freezes, stomach clenching with each spasm until he slumps, all his wonderful weight pinning me, his smell and his panting noises lighting up my senses like electricity. I feel his lips on my neck, kissing idly between deepening breaths. I rub his back and arms, comb my nails through his hair, and trace the curves of his ears. He pushes himself up, sinks into the center cushion. I make it to sitting, feeling high and filthy and full of myself.
Full of both of us.
“Fuck
me
,” I mutter. “Let’s eat some pizza.”
“Knock
knock
.”
I lean around the counter to smile at Rob as he steps through the front door.
“Hey there.
Be right out.” I finish the dish I’m scrubbing and dry my hands. Rob kisses my cheek as I come over to take his coat.
“Downstairs door was unlocked,” he says.
“So I gathered. How are you?”
“Not bad.” The way his eyes drop from my face to my chest, the way his smile turns from polite to wicked, tells me this night will be much like his first visit. It makes me miss Noah’s sweet cautiousness, but I still want him. Rob’s still the best-looking man I’ve ever been with, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a turn-on.
I dug out a stack of takeout menus when I got home, in case Rob seemed hungry, but food doesn’t seem to be on his radar. He puts his hands to my waist, lips to my temple, brings our bodies close.
“I’ve got wine in the kitchen, if you want some.”
“Maybe.”
He leans in and kisses my neck, cradling my jaw in his palms.
“Or we can just get down to it,” I say.
Rob steers the conversation somewhere I hadn’t expected. “I didn’t make you come last time.”
“Sure you did,” I say, sounding way too surprised.
He grins at me. “It’s cool, Abby. I know I didn’t.”
I gnaw on my lip, mortified. I guess Rob’s better at faking gullibility than I am at faking orgasms. I half expect a mob of angry feminists to break the door down and stone me.
“But I figured maybe that’s all either of us wanted out of it,” Rob says. “The illusion… But I have to say, my ego’s a little bruised.”
“Oh,” I say, mustering flirtation. “We can’t have that.”
Rob kisses my mouth, easing in slower than last time. I assume that the three of us crossing paths yesterday has had the same game-upping effect on Rob as it did on Noah. And the fire burning in Rob’s body as the kissing intensifies convinces me that he’s up to the challenge. That he was practically born for it. If I can manage to quiet my racing thoughts and give myself over to what he’s got planned, I’ll be happy to oblige.
I lead us to the couch, and we sit. Rob turns aggressive, leaning close, pushing me steadily back until I’m half-reclined, his strong, heavy body against mine, bringing all that same dirty excitement from Sunday and far less uncertainty. His promise scared me at first, made me worry what might happen if I
couldn’t
come tonight, but now…now I want everything this gorgeous man can give me.
Rob’s mouth moves to my neck, his hot tongue teasing my skin as his soft moans light me on fire.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs.
“You know.”
I hear him laugh softly against my throat; then he grabs my hand and puts it between his legs, presses it to where his cock’s grown stiff behind his jeans. “You’ll get
my cum
, Abby.
But what first?
I
wanna
blow your fucking mind.”
“God, I’m not—”
The door buzzer snaps me back to the reality with a start.
Rob laughs.
“Ding-dong, pizza boy.”
I glare at him. “Not funny. You have no idea how close to a porno my
life’s
become this week.” I’d ignore it, but I can already hear feet ascending the steps. Rob lets me up, and I smooth my palms over my skirt and hair and pad across the living room. I open the door halfway, not honestly surprised in the least by the face staring back at me.
“Noah.” He’s so handsome I want to moan with exasperation. I slip out onto the small landing so maybe Rob won’t overhear us.
“Hey,” he says. “Your downstairs door was open.”
“Yeah…I’ve got, um, company tonight.
Of the impregnation variety.”
I make a face, one I hope conveys apology and tactful embarrassment and goofy well-
adjustedness
.
He
purses
his lips, pink blooming in his cheeks. His posture changes noticeably, shoulders rising but not in a self-assured way. “Oh. Sorry. You said this morning you were doing your Christmas cards tonight. I didn’t know it was code speak.”
I shake my head and laugh. “It’s not. I
am
planning on doing that. You know, when the other stuff is done with.” I toy with adding,
he’s not usually as thorough as you
, but think better of it.
“Sorry. I was just… Somerville Theatre’s showing
Mean Streets
at eight. I just thought if you were free… Well anyway. I’m really sorry. This is awkward.” He manages a smile, and I return it tenfold, wanting to alleviate anything bad he’s feeling.
There’s silence for a moment; then I sigh, frazzled. “It’s—”
“Let him in.” Rob’s voice cuts in from behind me.
I look to Noah, our eyes locking for a long, awkward pause. “Do you want to come in?”
He makes a charming, terrified face and shrugs.
Rob pulls the door wide open on us. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Noah says.
“Don’t worry. I got here like five minutes ago. You didn’t interrupt anything scandalous. Come in and have a glass of wine.” There’s something pointed and devious in Rob’s expression, a quality that both excites and scares me—an invitation. I look at Noah, who just purses his lips, looking between us.
“C’mon,” Rob says. He leaves us and crosses to the kitchen. I hear my cupboard doors opening and closing and glassing tinkling.
“I think he’s propositioning you for an impromptu threesome,” I whisper to Noah.
“Yeah, I sort of sensed that.”
We trade more insecure eye contact.
“Do you want that?” he asks.
“Do you want to wake up tomorrow having
done
that?” I ask.
“I asked you first,” he says.
I think about it and answer honesty. “Yeah, I sort of want that. But it’s not really about what I want.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Noah crosses his arms over his chest. There’s an edge to his discomfort, something tough to pinpoint but unmistakably male and possibly territorial. Like the hard body he hides behind his unassuming clothes, this quality both surprises and excites me. His eyes are bright and intense, that same primal, animal intensity I feel when I imagine conceiving his child. “Both the guys in your apartment right now are here because of what you want,” he says.
“Well, what I want, and what you guys want too. Don’t pretend like there’s not free money and no-strings sex on offer, here.”
Noah opens his mouth, closes it,
grinds
his jaw.
“What?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want you to think it’s just about a hook-up or a paycheck with me. Trying to get someone pregnant isn’t no-strings in my book.”
“Well it is in
his
.” I jerk my head in the direction of the kitchen.
He takes a step closer and whispers, “What about you?”
“You
know
, Noah. It’s about me conceiving.
The fact that you’re a nice guy and I like spending time with you with my clothes on is a bonus, okay?”
“You kids want to quit whispering in the doorway?”
I turn at the sound of Rob’s voice and find him clutching the wine bottle and three empty glasses.
“Just give us one sec.”
He sets everything on the coffee table and wanders back to the kitchen. I lean in the threshold, a little pissed at Noah. “I feel like you think I’ve been leading you on or something.”
He takes a deep breath, rolls his eyes in a relenting way. “I’m sorry. I just… This isn’t what I pictured happening while I was driving over here.”
I nod.
“I know what this is all about,” he says, sounding suddenly resolved. “I just forgot, I guess. When I found out he was here.”
“Well, I hope—”
Noah steps inside, throwing me for a complete loop. He pushes off his shoes, and I take his jacket and scarf and close the door, utterly bewildered by this sudden U-turn in his attitude. His face is set and tough to read as he pours three generous glasses. Rob comes back to the living room.
My mind feels swimmy. One of these men is oozing filthy mischief; the other hemorrhaging a breed of competitiveness I don’t entirely trust. I take the glass Noah hands me, wondering who the fuck this man is. An image of the two of them coming to blows flashes across my brain. They’re both trained in hand-to-hand combat, and I take an inventory of the breakable things in the room.
Rob clinks his glass against mine, as if he’s toasting this bizarre turn of events. I swallow. I can’t stand the ambiguity going down in my orderly home.
“You’re trying to turn this into a three-way, aren’t you?” I ask Rob.
He laughs. “Aren’t
you
?”
“I didn’t invite Noah over,” I say. Noah shakes his head in confirmation.
“Oh.” Rob nods at Noah and takes a drink. “I
kinda
thought you planned it. Anyhow, I’m game if you guys are.” He’s so casual it shocks me.
Impresses me too.
I tend to overthink things, and I’m jealous of how simple Rob makes the whole decision seem, how easily he can roll with these punches.
Neither Noah nor I speak, so Rob goes on. “I don’t mind sharing my night.” He grins and steps close. I take a deep breath and watch his mouth as it lowers to mine. He kisses me, deep and slow, tasting of wine. I feel a hand on my arm, and I open my eyes to find Noah coaxing me to face him. He kisses me the same way Rob did, though it feels different, tastes different. Different, the way their skin smells, how their hands hold me, the sexual energy warming me on either side.
“Me and Abby were just talking,” Rob says, “about how I ripped her off last time in the pleasure department. I guess this’ll make up for it. You been with two guys before?” he asks me.
“No.”
It’s impressive how Rob controls the sexual atmosphere of a place, how easily he can waltz in as a paid guest,
then
take right over as ringmaster.
“You two seem close,” he says, dark eyes darting between us. “Why don’t you show me what she likes?” he asks Noah.
Rob steps back a pace, and Noah embraces the deference, musters an air of authority that thrills me. He kisses me deep, leads me to the couch,
pulls
me down into his lap. I press my pussy against him as his tongue plunders my
mouth,
and I rub until I feel his hard-on pressing back. I wrestle my mouth away from his and kiss his ear, taste his skin, feel his throat vibrate with a low moan. His hips shift beneath mine, begging for more friction.
“Yeah,” he mumbles. “Ride me.”
I feel the couch shift, and Rob’s thigh brushes mine as he kneels beside me. Noah’s hands are on my hips, and I feel another one smooth my hair from my face and touch my neck. It’s a vulnerable feeling, but that’s not a criticism. The only thing that truly worries me is the thought that Noah’s here under duress, and the stiff cock thrusting against my pussy is telling me he’s just fine.
Noah’s hands slide up to my breasts, and Rob’s move down, his cool, smooth palm rubbing my thigh, inching up to knead my ass. I let him slide it beneath my panties, slip his fingers between my legs. I lift myself from Noah’s lap, and Rob dips inside, testing.
“Fuck, yeah.” He pushes in deeper, eases his fingers out, and slicks them over my clit. He takes his hand away, and I press back against Noah.
“I want you,” I whisper.
Noah moans, pushing gently at my hips. I move to the side so he can open his belt and fly, push his pants down enough to take himself out. Rob cups my breasts from behind, and we watch Noah stroke his ready cock.